


Make-Up

by mistleto3



Series: Sarufem!mi [8]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Light BDSM, Porn with some plot but not much, Rule 63, Smut, make-up sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6498271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I have you shoved against the wall but now I can’t stop looking at your mouth."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a drabble prompt on tumblr sent by theotakufairy from [this](http://mikototsu-trash.tumblr.com/post/140642211428/right-to-the-good-parts-prompt-list) list. We have headcanons about Saruhiko getting jealous and turning into master!Saru, who's super dominant/sadistic/everything that Misaki loves, so this is sort of a Master!Saruhiko: Origins fic. 
> 
> This story can also be found on [Tumblr](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/142486050629/i-have-you-shoved-against-the-wall-but-now-i-cant)

Old habits die hard. Although Misaki and Saruhiko had talked out their differences since the destruction of the Slates, apologised for the mistakes they had made, resolved to communicate more effectively with one another, et cetera et cetera, even all of that hadn’t completely put an end to their fights. Five years of deep-rooted bitterness and broken trust couldn’t be completely patched up in a couple of months. Even though they had put most of it behind them and had moved back in together, even though they were dating now, and did couple-y stuff like cuddling on the sofa, kissing each other goodbye when Saruhiko left for work, sleeping in the same bed, they’d even started having sex, but their old wounds hadn’t healed completely. Things were better, of course, much better. They went weeks at a time without a big fight, and when they did inevitably lock horns, usually they could sort out their differences by talking things out. It was often difficult, especially for Saruhiko, who had never been good at opening up about his feelings. Even so, most of the time, it worked. 

Except when it didn’t. There were some sore spots that were still a little too tender, and brushing on one of those, even by accident, usually ended messily. There remained a few subjects that they hadn't quite distanced themselves from enough to talk calmly about, that still hit a little too close to home. If Saruhiko felt Misaki was prioritising Homra over him, for instance, or if she acted as though she still didn’t quite trust him, the self-loathing and the jealousy that he had been trying to move past would come bubbling back up again, and he’d shut himself off. Or sometimes, Misaki would get defensive about Saruhiko’s new clan, or say or do something mindless that would irritate Saruhiko’s old insecurities, bring the itch back into his scar. When the insecurity was one of the more sensitive ones, he would close off again, and instead of communicating with her, he would slip back into his old habit of throwing insults. And of course, if he said anything came a little too close to Misaki’s own insecurities, she would blow up. Sometimes it would just be a shouting match. Sometimes, it would be worse. 

Today was one of the days it was worse. Misaki had been spending more time than usual at Homra, coming home late without a phone call and leaving early in the morning before Saruhiko had even woken up. He couldn’t help but feel like he was losing her again. He didn’t want to say anything though; he knew his suspicions were unfounded and would probably just offend her. Still, he couldn’t help but worry that she’d rather spend time with her clan than with him, which led to another concern about why that was. There were plenty of attractive men at Homra, men who had more in common with Misaki than he did...

Trying to shut down that train of thought wasn’t as successful as Saruhiko had hoped. Instead, he had ended up just burying it, letting it fester until something tiny set him off. The tiny thing happened to be Misaki pestering him about his diet. She had, once again, gotten home late. She did all of the cooking for the pair of them because Saruhiko couldn’t cook to save his life, but he was hungry, and she wasn’t home yet. Instead of waiting for her, Saruhiko had decided to pick up a microwave meal from the corner store, and now Misaki was lecturing him about his poor dietary choices. There was only so much Saruhiko could listen to before he finally burst out:

“What was I supposed to do? It was almost ten o’clock and I hadn’t had so much as a text from you. I was hungry; I wasn’t going to sit here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to finish whoring yourself out to the rest of your clan.”

“W-what...?”

“You’ve been with them more than you’ve been with me the past few weeks. It’s clear you’d rather spend your evenings with those guys than here. And staying out this late without even telling me? What do you expect me to think?” His tone was matter-of-fact, almost bored, though there was definitely something beneath that mask that he was hiding, something that sounded like disgust. It reminded Misaki a little too much of the day he burned his tattoo, the day he left her. 

“What the hell, monkey?! Why the fuck did you jump to the conclusion that I’m fucking someone else just because I’ve been home late a few times? Aren’t you the one who always called me a huge virgin?” She shouted the response, her fists clenched and shaking with rage. 

“It wasn’t a few times though; it was every night for two weeks. And we haven’t had sex since you started disappearing the entire day. Are you telling me I shouldn’t put two and two together?” He folded his arms across his chest, keeping his eyes fixed on the window so he didn’t have to look at her face. The sight of her lips brought sickening images of her kissing someone else rising into his mind like bile. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m screwing around, idiot! It’s almost Kusanagi-san’s birthday and we’ve been trying to organise something special for him because he’s had a shit time of it the last year and a half and he deserves a good night, but of course it’s usually Kusanagi-san who organises everything so we’re not exactly practiced at it, and we’ve had to do most of it either before he comes in or after he leaves so we can keep it a secret!”

“That doesn’t explain why you don’t seem to want to be intimate with me. We’ve barely even kissed in a week. I thought at first maybe it was just you acting like your usual virgin self, but it’s hard not to start feeling unwanted after a while.”  
Without thinking, Misaki snatched up the nearest object and threw it at him, which happened to be the TV remote. He caught it before it could hit him. 

“You’ve been acting all fucking gloomy so I didn’t want to ask ‘cause I thought you’d just say no!”

“I was gloomy because you were at the bar all day and never bothered to tell me why. You were the one being secretive, don’t get angry at me for assuming the worst when you couldn’t be bothered to drop me a text.” He spat, his voice tense with something between apathy and revulsion.

She grabbed for something else to throw, this time it was an empty beer bottle that had been left on the coffee table. Saruhiko ducked to avoid it, and it smashed against the kitchen cabinet. 

"Why would I think you'd assume I was cheating? You made it pretty clear nobody would want a scrawny, flat-chested virgin like me!" Misaki reached out for something else to throw at him, but Saruhiko grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall before she had a chance to. 

"I told you, I never meant any of the stuff I said when we were fighting.” His voice was low, the disgust becoming more and more evident, though it seemed now it was directed more at himself. “Do you think I'd be dating you now if that's what I thought of you?" Misaki struggled against his grip on her arms, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn't notice the tears brimming in her eyes. Saruhiko sighed, his tone steadying slightly at the light glinting off the wetness in her eyes. He couldn’t stand to see her crying. "If you're going to be spending more time at the bar than usual, that's fine, just tell me beforehand; I worry when you're not home."

"Why do you worry? I can look after myself, it's not like I'm gonna get hurt or anything." 

"Misaki... you idiot..." He moved one hand to wrap it around both of her slim wrists, freeing the other to tilt her head up to force her to look at him. His voice was still stiff, but softer now. "I worry because you're beautiful, and there are a lot of guys at Homra who aren't bad looking and have a lot more in common with you than I do… and I can’t…" He didn’t need to finish the sentence; she knew full well it was going to end with _lose you again._

"I-I'd never date any of the guys at Homra! They're like my brothers. And besides, there's no way any of them would fancy me anyway." Misaki dismissed him instantly. Saruhiko tried to keep his gaze fixed on her eyes, but every so often, it strayed down to her lips. The shouting and struggling had quickened her breathing and her heartbeat, so her lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks were flushed faintly with blood. 

"That's not what I heard." 

"W-what?" 

"Back when I was still in the clan... they used to talk about you a lot, when you were out of earshot. I don't know if they still do, but you've only gotten hotter since then."

"What do you mean talk about me?" Misaki tilted her head. 

As Saruhiko spoke, his gaze came to rest on her lips. "Saying stuff about how you were a hot redhead with a cute ass and nice legs and..."

"W-who the hell said that?" She cut him off, her cheeks burning. Her struggling against his grip on her arms intensified. "Those perverts! I'll kick their asses!" 

"What about mine? It's the same stuff I've been saying ever since we got together." 

"You don't count; you're my boyfriend so you're allowed to say that stuff." She mumbled, then pressed her lips together bashfully. 

Saruhiko couldn't help himself; he leaned down and kissed her firmly, and she made a quiet noise of surprise and once again tried to pull her wrists out of his grip, which only prompted him to deepen the kiss. After a moment, her lips parted against his, and she gasped as his tongue slipped past them. His grip on her arms tightened as she arched her back away from the wall to press her body against his, and his other hand moved to run down her side, over the curve of her waist to fiddle with the hem of her shirt. His fingers slipped up under the fabric, and Misaki twitched and gasped as the gentle touch tickled her bare skin. His hand found its way to her breast and cupped it through her bra as his lips moved to her jawline, where he caught the skin between his teeth and sucked on it roughly. Misaki let out a whimper of pleasure.

“I-I thought you were mad at me...” She protested weakly. 

“I am. So I’m showing you who you belong to.” Within a few seconds, Saruhiko had pulled off her shirt and the black tank top she wore under it and tossed them into a pile on the carpet. He peppered kisses down the side of her neck and over her collarbone until his lips found her Homra insignia. He flicked his tongue across the tattoo, then bit down on it, pulling the flesh into his mouth to suck on it roughly until a dark pink mark blossomed on the pale skin beneath the ink. “You might be a Red clansman, but you’re mine first and foremost. Remember that.” 

Misaki nodded in agreement, her chest rising and falling quickly as her breathing accelerated. Her attempts to free herself from the grip he had on her wrists were becoming less frequent. Saruhiko licked the mark he’d left on her collarbone, then continued kissing down her chest, snaking his free hand around her back to quickly unfasten the catch on her bra. Hurriedly, he pulled off the garment, then took a moment to stare at her now bare chest. The blush on Misaki’s cheeks deepened at the hunger in his gaze as he pressed his lips to her cleavage, then closed them around her nipple, sucking none-too-gently on the flesh as he squeezed and groped her other breast. A high-pitched moan escaped Misaki’s throat, and she clamped her teeth closed around her bottom lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of being vocal. He glanced up at her and chuckled at the expression on her face, then leaned up to kiss her again, forcing her to release her lip from between her teeth so he could catch it between his own. Misaki gasped as he bit down; her body was trembling. Saruhiko had never been this rough with her before, and though she would be mortified to admit it out loud, she found it _incredibly_ hot. 

Saruhiko’s hand released her breast, and he trailed his fingertips down her flat stomach, over the gentle contours of the muscle beneath the skin, and down to the waistband of her shorts. Teasingly slowly, he unfastened the button and unzipped her fly, then slid his hand into her underwear. Her hips rocked towards his fingers as they pressed firmly against her clit and began to rub at her in just the way that he knew she loved, and a low moan slipped past her teeth. Saruhiko smirked at the sound and the growing wetness beneath his fingertips. Misaki’s struggling had completely stopped by now, and he rewarded her by letting one of those fingertips slide forward to massage her entrance, then slide, infuriatingly slowly, into her. She bucked her hips desperately to push the digit deeper into her, in frustrated at his leisurely movements. 

“I thought you were being rough with me.” She grumbled. “Stop fucking teasing…”

Saruhiko smirked, and his gaze slowly rose to meet hers from where it had been wandering across her bare skin. He leaned in to breathe the words in her ear. “Like it rough do you, Mi~ Sa~ Ki~?” He drew out her name with a lilt, and watched as the sound of it raised goosebumps prickling across her arms. It was odd to think it used to piss her off. 

“Shut up.” There was no conviction in her voice, and the words were quickly followed by a whine as he nipped her earlobe. He pressed another finger into her, knuckle deep, and made a come hither motion to rub them against her sweet spot. She swore under her breath, and his smirk widened.

“Why? You’re cute when you’re flustered.” He teased. 

“I-I’m not flustered!” Misaki huffed. “T-there’s no shame in liking it a bit rough…” 

Saruhiko’s grip on her wrists tightened as he pushed them harder against the wall, and slid his thigh between hers to press it against the back of his hand, forcing his fingers in deeper, harder. He sank his teeth into the junction between her neck and her shoulder, and she almost yelled in pleasure. She tightened around his fingers, her eyes falling closed as the shockwaves of an orgasm took her by surprise. Almost instantly, her face burned deep red in embarrassment. Saruhiko lifted his head lazily from her throat to look at her, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“What was that? No shame in it?” He teased. 

“…Shut up.” Misaki was breathless, and Saruhiko laughed again, his eyes sinking back to fix on her lips. They were parted as she gasped for breath, plump and swollen from the rough kisses. A bruise was beginning to bloom on the lower lip, where Saruhiko had bitten it. Misaki looked up at him, her hazel eyes half-lidded, and a look of realisation crossed her face. 

“What?” Saruhiko raised an eyebrow at her. 

“D-do you want me to…?” She cleared her throat. “Is that why you’re looking at my mouth?”

“What you to what?” Saruhiko had half an idea what she meant, but he wanted her to say it. 

“Y-you know…”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did Misaki~” He drew out her name again. 

“S-stupid Saru…” She swallowed bashfully, dropping her gaze. “Do you want me to suck your…” 

Saruhiko chuckled. “Cock?” He spoke the word close to her ear again, and a shiver ran down her back. 

“Yeah, that.” 

“If you want.” 

“Idiot… I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t…” 

Saruhiko released his grip on her wrists and she slid down onto her knees, her cheeks still flushed a dark pink. She fumbled with the buttons of his fly for a moment, before Saruhiko unfastened them for her and she pulled down the waistband of his underwear to free his already-hard cock. Misaki leaned forward and licked the head of it tentatively, her eyes rising to meet his as she slid her lips down the shaft. Saruhiko let out a deep sigh as he watched more and more of his length disappear into her mouth every time she bobbed her head, until her lips began to reach his belly. With one hand, he braced himself against the wall, his arm shaking slightly as his fingers curled with pleasure, and he tangled the other in her hair.

Misaki lifted her head off him and licked her lips. “What happened to being rough?” She managed to force the words out without stuttering. 

His eyebrow arched. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to…”

“You aren’t gonna hurt me; I don’t have a gag reflex, idiot. Don’t make me ask again.” Misaki stumbled over the words, not sure where to look. If she met his eyes, she would undoubtedly see him smirking down at her and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from blushing deeper, but it wasn’t much better than what was right in front of her face. Luckily, her conundrum was quickly solved when Saruhiko pushed her head back against the wall gently, his grip on her hair tightening, and slid his cock past her lips, not stopping until the head hit the back of her throat. She pushed her head forward again to force him hilt deep, and he swore under his breath as she deep throated him. He rocked his hips forward to press her head back against the wall and slowly began to thrust into her mouth. Misaki’s hands snaked around his waist, and she dug her fingernails into his hips, pulling them forward again, and he obeyed the wordless command, tugging on the handful of hair that he had a grip on as he sped up his movements. Moans escaped Misaki’s throat freely between thrusts, and Saruhiko had to bite his lip to keep his own voice down. 

“Fuck you’re good at this…” He hissed, shivering as her tongue rubbed against the underside of his cock. She swallowed around its head in response, and he swore again, the pleasure eliciting a low moan from deep in his throat that was almost a growl. 

Saruhiko was almost glad when she finally pushed his hips back after much longer than he had expected, gasping for breath; he wasn’t sure how much longer he could have lasted if she continued. By her hair, he pulled her to her feet, and she groaned at the pain. He pulled a condom from the pocket of his trousers and tore the foil package open hurriedly, his hands shaking slightly in anticipation. 

“W-what the fuck? You carry those around with you? You total pervert!” 

“Says the girl who just asked me to face fuck her.” 

“…Shut up.” 

Saruhiko chuckled as he rolled the condom down over his cock, staring at Misaki as she kicked off her shorts and panties. He couldn’t help but marvel at how gorgeous she was. As soon as the condom was on, his hands returned instantly to her body, running them over her waist and down to her thighs. 

“H-hang on… Why am I naked and you’re not?” She protested. 

He smirked and began unbuttoning his waistcoat. “Fair point.” Misaki’s eyes fixed on his chest as he discarded the waistcoat, then unfastened his shirt and shrugged it off. “Better?” He asked, his voice playful. She nodded, and his hands returned their position on her thighs. He groped at the tanned skin, then gripped the backs of the limbs to lift her up and pin her between his body and the wall. Her legs hitched over his hips and wrapped them around his body as he positioned his cock against her entrance and pushed inside hastily. They hissed in unison, and Saruhiko opened his mouth to ask if she was okay, but was interrupted by a whispered demand. 

“Harder…” 

At the pleasure in her voice, he could do nothing but obey, instantly picking up a fast pace. Misaki threw her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, her toes curling at the rough treatment. Her head rolled back to rest against the wall, and her mouth fell open, low gasps and whimpers and moans rising from her throat with every thrust. Her hazel eyes were half-closed with pleasure, and she stared, almost dazed, at Saruhiko through her eyelashes. A hiss escaped from between his teeth at the sight of her, reduced to this state so quickly by a little bit of rough treatment. 

“Heh, you’re a little slut when you want to be, aren’t you?” He purred in her ear. Misaki opened her mouth to protest, but he continued before she had the chance to come up with a retort. “You’re my little slut though, Mi~Sa~Ki~. You belong to me.” 

Whatever she had been about to say in protest evaporated in her mouth, and she found herself nodding in agreement. He caught her lips in a brief but hard kiss, his own curved up into a smirk. He had never seen this side of his lover before, and Saruhiko’s mind was racing with ideas of what to do with his newfound knowledge of Misaki’s submissive side. 

“Want me to be even rougher?” His voice still had a teasing lilt to it, though his breathlessness was beginning to show. Misaki nodded eagerly, and he chuckled. 

“I can’t hear you~” 

Misaki’s cheeks darkened again, and she was suddenly bashful again as she murmured the word: “Harder…”

“Beg for it.” He wasn’t sure where the idea came from all of a sudden, but he was glad he had come up with it when she whined desperately as the pace of his thrusts slowed torturously. 

“Saruhiko… please… fuck me harder…” She practically moaned the words. The lust in her voice sent a jolt of arousal through Saruhiko’s groin, and he couldn’t help but oblige her, angling his thrusts towards her sweet spot and redoubling their speed, holding nothing back. Misaki practically screamed, her head falling back against the wall again as her nails raked across his back. 

“Who do you belong to?” He growled in her ear. 

“You… Saruhiko… I’m yours…” The words came between gasps for air. “I-I’ve never wanted anyone but you.” He felt her begin to twitch and tighten around him, her hips bucking impatiently against his, obviously close to the edge. She tilted her head up a little to look him in the eye, and breathed: “Master…” 

“Fuck…” The sound of that name, moaned in the half-desperate voice of his lover as she was about to cum around him pushed him over the brink. His hips bucked erratically, and buried his cock hilt deep inside her to release. Her walls tightened suddenly around his cock and her mouth fell open in a silent scream as Saruhiko pressed his face into her shoulder to muffle his low groan of ecstasy. They rode out their orgasms together, holding on to one another tightly, as though for dear life. 

“Misaki…” He breathed her name against the skin of her throat, shuddering at the waves of pleasure that racked his body.

When his vision came back into focus, Saruhiko carried Misaki over to the sofa and dropped her onto it, where she lay on her back, panting and for once unabashed by her nudity. He found himself suddenly exhausted, his legs trembling with exertion. As he headed to the bathroom to clean up, he almost stumbled, and he still hadn’t caught his breath by the time he returned to the room. When he found Misaki hadn’t moved from her position splayed on the couch, and that she was still gasping slightly for air, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He lifted her head to sit down, then rested it in his lap and smoothed her auburn hair. 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “For not texting you, and making you worried… and getting pissed, and throwing shit…” 

“It’s okay. Sorry for insulting you, and assuming the worst.” 

“…I-it’s okay if you wanna… ya know, call me a whore and stuff…” Her bashfulness made a quick resurgence. “I-it’s sort of hot. Just… only in a bedroom context.” 

“Whatever you want.” Saruhiko chuckled and found her hand to twine her fingers with his. “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me…” His voice was softer, and he obviously had to force the words out. “I just… the idea of you being with anyone else makes me feel sick.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head back. “Jeez, I sound like a total possessive creep.” 

“No, no…” Misaki sat up and tucked herself under his arm. “I like that you’re possessive. Makes me feel… I dunno, special, I guess. And obviously you wouldn’t want to think about me with anyone else; you’re my boyfriend.” She mumbled. The word _boyfriend_ coming out of Misaki’s mouth still sounded almost foreign to Saruhiko. “I don’t want to think about me with anyone else either. I love you, and just you.” 

As dense as Misaki could be, sometimes she could pull out a 100-point answer to surprise him. He pulled her in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he pressed them gently against her bruised ones. “I love you too.”


End file.
